


Revenge is a Dish Best Served Sexy

by Rishal



Series: The Mating Game [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Light Dom/sub, Light breath play, Smut, light humiliation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-07
Updated: 2016-09-07
Packaged: 2018-08-13 13:50:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7978969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rishal/pseuds/Rishal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been a while since PharMercy has been intimate.  But they've had good reason.  Now, there's nothing standing in the way and Fareeha can finally get her revenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revenge is a Dish Best Served Sexy

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter one is a bit more story heavy, but I promise the next chapter will be much sexier.

Fareeha glanced around the dropship, seeing despair and exhaustion stamped on every face. They were all caked in dirt, blood, and grime. Everyone sported injuries in various stages of healing. Angela, seated to her right, looked especially close to collapse. And Fareeha felt as worn-down as her companions looked. She chewed her bottom lip as she tried to think of something, _anything_ , to say. Something to bolster their spirits, to motivate them. To keep them looking forward, toward the future, the next fight, the next opportunity for victory. But as she opened her mouth, Angela leaned against her and sighed. She wrapped her arm around the doctor and leaned down to whisper, "I love you." Angela was silent, but she reached up to lace their fingers together.

Throwing caution to the wind, uncaring whether the others saw, Fareeha tilted Angela's face up and kissed her gently. She tasted of salt, blood, and Angela. After an all-too-brief moment they separated and Angela settled back against her. Fareeha shifted her gaze to the Raptora suit. It was scorched and dented, rent with bullet holes. It would need massive repairs , but with any luck Torb would be able to help. She looked back at the woman in her arms. It had been weeks since they'd been intimate, since they'd had time, energy, or inclination. She allowed her thoughts to drift back to that night two weeks ago, when Angela had teased and tormented her into one powerful orgasm after another. A small smile flickered across her face.

She'd woken the next morning, warm and relaxed. Her lover was still asleep at her side, snoring softly. Then, as now, her chest felt tight with emotion: love, tenderness, fierce protectiveness. And lust, plenty of that, too. Fareeha has slipped from the bed, pressing a kiss to Angela's temple. She'd dressed, done her stretches, and begun her morning routine workout. It was during her run that she'd begun plotting revenge, cobbling together a vague plan. Unfortunately, as she'd stepped from the shower, ATHENA had requested she and Angela make their way to the briefing room immediately. Any and all plans were curtailed by duty, filed away for future use. She'd thrown on some clothes and rushed to the mission briefing, Angela in tow.

ATHENA had run some predictive algorithms and was following up on the results. In the process, she'd run across reports of possible Talon activity in London. Intel was scarce, but ATHENA extrapolated that the most likely possibility was a bomb. So they had been sent out, a team of six deemed well able to handle the situation. The moon in the dropship had been jovial, full of good-natured boasts, wagers, and ribbing. They'd been absolutely convinced of their success. But, for all their confidence, things had started going wrong from the moment they landed. ATHENA was unable to provide them with more concrete information, aside from being able to confirm that something was happening. Local news sources reported nothing out of the ordinary. Even their normal informants had nothing of substance for them to follow. They were going in blind.

They'd agreed that the best course of action was to split up and ferret out what they could. So Lena and Genji had set out, canvassing the streets for any sign of Talon. Above them soared Fareeha in her Raptora, a sweeping bird's eye view of the city stretched out below. The first couple days had been uneventful, a few petty crimes averted, but nothing indicative of their quarry. On their fourth day in London, her group had literally stumbled upon Talon in a back alley near King's Row. Both sides had initially been too stunned to react, but the truce lasted fractions of a second. As Lena began blinking around, distracting agents, Genji had done his best to pick them off and get a look at the bomb. Fareeha, for her part, had called for the remaining three Overwatch agents and used a few well-placed concussive blasts to keep Talon busy. She'd hesitated to fire her rockts, wary of drawing unwanted attention to the scuffle or harming her teammates. There had also been collateral damage and civilian casualties to consider.

The engagement had not gone their way. By the time Angela, Reinhardt, and Mei had arrived they'd been in rough shape. Lena had taken a bullet in the shoulder and was sporting bruised ribs and a badly sprained ankle. Fareeha had a through-and-through bullet wound on her left leg, another lodged in her breastplate, and had suffered blunt force trauma for a poorly placed concussion grenade. Only Genji, despite a few new nicks and dents in his exoskeleton, appeared relatively unharmed. With the addition of three fresh arrivals, Talon had fallen back, thwarted but not beaten. The bomb had disappeared with them.

Angela had done her best to patch them up, taking care of the bullet wounds first. She'd been able to deal with Lena's sprain, but could only bind her ribs. Fareeha had waved off any additional help. After setting up for the night, they'd stayed up late discussing strategy, finally falling into their cots in the wee hours of the morning. Over the next few days they faced many setbacks, including Talon reinforcements and malfunctioning communicators. Each night they'd gone to bed drained and woken up exhausted, plauged by little sleep and poor food. Throughout, Talon made steady progress toward their destination. On the fourth day of combat, their communicators had failed completely, shattering any semblance of cohesion they'd maintained. Before they'd been able to regroup, Talon had been able to set up their bomb and detonate it.

They'd been caught in the blast, thrown back by the shockwave, and buried in rubble. Reinhardt's quick thinking in raising his shield had created a sizeable pocket around them. She and the others had worked to clear out the rubble, finally managing to clear a space big enough for them to slip through. Fareeha was the first to clamber out. When she was clear, leaning down to lend a hand to Mei, she'd stopped mid-motion. The sheer level of destruction around them, and the size of the blast radius, was devastating. Fareeha swallowed past the lump in her throat that rose at the memory. The area had a riot of sound, from the occasional slide of debris, to rushing water, fires, and the muffled cries of buried survivors. When they were all out, seeing the result of their failure, they'd unanimously agreed to stay. Crippling guilt and a desire to save as many lives as possible drove them.

Angela had quickly set up a rudimentary triage area as Lena and Genji set off to retrieve their supplies. Fareeha, along with Reinhardt and Mei, had begun locating survivors and clearing out debris. That first full day of rescue had been full of ever-growing heartache.

The week that had followed hadn't seen any improvements. They'd managed to find survivors, but there were so many injured, dead, and dying. Alongside the other medical practitioners, Angela worked day and night to tend injuries and comfort the fatally wounded. Fareeha had spent as much time as possible with the medics, serving as aid and bodyguard. More often than not she also served to prevent opportunistic thieves from pilfering much-needed supplies. She was there to make sure they all got some rest. And she was there to see the rest of the Overwatch agents regroup at night. Day after day, she'd seen the stress of loss, the toll of the human cost, and the drain of constant vigilance and strenuous work weight more heavily. Finally, Fareeha had been forced to make the call that summoned the dropship to bring them home. And now, here they were, all lost in their own thoughts. They were probably doubting themselves, questioning their actions from the past two weeks. "Where did we go wrong?" "What could I have done differently? Better?"

Fareeha couldn't stand the silence any longer. She squeezed Angela's hand and stood. Five pairs of eyes turned toward her. Nervously, she cleared her throat and stood at parade rest. "I may be new to Overwatch, but not to combat, loss, or defeat. We lost to Talon, true. We lost good people and the city is going to be a long time in recovering. But we did the absolute best we could. We slowed Talon down, made them work for every inch. And when it was over, we did what Talon cannot do; we gave of ourselves. They attacked with no thought for the loss of life, human or omnic, no thought for anything other than furthering their own goals; destruction, power, and intimidation. They do their best to sow terror by being violent and unpredictable.

"But we care. We protect and serve. We minimize casualties when and where we can. We prevent loss life, livelihood, and property at every opportunity. And should the inevitable happen and we lose? We don't turn our backs, we don't disappear, and we _don't_ give up. We work to save those caught in the aftermath. We serve as rescuers and emergency responders. We let the people know that we are here. Not for selfish grabs at power, or to harm them and their families. But to stop those who would see them wronged.

"So I may be new to Overwatch. But I have seen how it brings out the best in us and those we seek to help. So, yes. We lost. But we go on and we uphold our cause: protect and serve. And I am proud of all of you. Thank you for the continued opportunity to serve with you." Fareeha met each of their gazes in turn, nodding, before sitting back down. Silence greeted her, but Fareeha thought her companions sat a little straighter, eyes a little brighter. It wasn't much, she told herself, but it was all they had right now. Angela kissed her cheek and whispered a "thank you."

"Now arriving at Watchpoint: Gibraltar," came ATHENA's voice. Everyone straightened up, making sure heir safety harnesses were secure. The landing approach was smooth, through there was a thump as the VTOL craft's engines cut out. The hatch slid open with a hydraulic hiss, revealing Morrison and Winston. Morrison was scowling, clearly impatient to begin the debriefing. Winston looked concerned, only growing moreso as they filed off the ship.

Jack opened his mouth, but Fareeha cut him off. "We can debrief and get our check-ups tomorrow," she said softly. The others looked between her and Morrison until the old soldier nodded curtly. Reinhardt, Lena, Genji, and Mei grabbed their packs and trudged into the base. Morrison glared at her, his brow knit in a scowl, arms crossed. Angela looked from one to the other, then at Winston. She sighed, shook her head, and turned back to the dropship.

"I'm going to collect the Valkyrie," Angela said. "Don't kill each other please." As Angela turned away, Fareeha caught her hand and squeezed it. Angela gave her a wan smile.

Fareeha turned back to Morrison and Winston. "What do you think you're doing?" Jack snarled. "You were a soldier. You know that procedure is important. Especially when you've basically been MIA for more than a week."

She sighed and rubbed her forehead, smearing the grime on it. "Morrison, _as a soldier_ , you should know that sometimes procedure takes a back seat to necessity. Sometimes you need to take care of your people more than you need your precious routine. We have had a very rough two weeks. You can get the details tomorrow. For now, accept that we all need a bit of time to simple feel... human... again. To collect ourselves before having to face this again." Fareeha nodded to Winston before turning on her heel and heading up the ramp to the dropship. She paused in the doorway, hand on the frame, glancing back. 

"And remember, Jack, this is not an officially sanctioned military organization." She heard Morrison grunt behind her as she entered the ship. Through a porthole she sees Jack and Winston heading back into the building. Fareeha turned to Angela, finding her leaning against a wall.

"I don't think I've seen anyone tell him off like that. At least, not for a long time," she said softly. "Your mother used to, when he was being especially pigheaded. But you're right. I think we all need the night to collect ourselves."

Fareeha stepped up to her, taking the doctor into her arms and kissing her softly. When they broke apart, she tucked Angela's head onto her shoulder, stroking her back. Without hesitation, Angela wrapped her arms around the taller woman's waist. They stayed that way for several minutes, taking comfort in each other. Finally, reluctantly, Fareeha pulled away. "We should get our suits into the hangar. Then we can go collect ourselves." Angela nodded. She grabbed an armful of Raptora pieces, hauling them from the dropship to a service mount in the hangar. Once they had set up their suits, they headed into the base. The cold metal and concrete hallways were familiar, welcoming in their own way. Everyone they met on the way to their quarters looked them over, nodded, and moved on.

Once the door closed behind them, Fareeha sighed. She'd been so focused on everyone else's well-being for the past week that she's largely forgone worrying about her own. Only adrenaline, caffeine, and concern for her team had kept her from collapsing. Now, in the comfort of their small suit, everything came crashing down on her and she swayed. All she wanted to do was sit down, but she felt like she'd sleep for a week if she did. And, at the very least, she wanted a shower before passing out. Fareeha looked up as the rasp of a zipper drew her attention, seeing Angela walking into the bathroom. The shower was a bit small, but still big enough for both of them to fit reasonably comfortably. A slow smile spread across her face. Tired as she was, a warm shower with her lover sounded _divine_.

Fareeha shrugged out of her bomber jacket, flinging it across the back of the couch. She unbuttoned her shirt and dropping it on the floor before shucking off her bra. Her jeans and panties came next, dropped and left where they fell. As she entered the bathroom, a wave of warm, moist air greeted her. Angela was already in the shower, her head under the water, features slack in bliss. Fareeha smiled as she padded to the shower, slipping in behind her, and pulled Angela into her arms. The hot water felt like heaven.

Angela opened her eyes and turned to look up at the Egyptian before her. Her fingers tangled in Fareeh's dark, silky locks as she tugged her down into a kiss. "Oh liebling," she murmured against her lips. Breaking the kiss, she rested her head against Fareeha's chest, listening to the steady, reassuring thump of her heartbeat. "I am so glad to be home. Does that make me a bad person?" She felt her lover's arms tighten around her.

"No," Fareeha replied softly. "It makes you human. It makes you someone who has been under a lot of stress. Who has a kind heart and has witnessed a lot of suffering. We did what we could, you more than the rest of us. But now we need to take a little time for ourselves."

"Ok."

They stood that way for a few minutes. Then Fareeha gently turned Angela around until her breasts pressed against her back, her down against the cool tile wall. She brought one hand up to close gently around Angela's pale throat, the other splayed across her stomach. Fareeha leaned down to growl in her ear, "Is this ok? Do you want this?" The smaller woman moaned softly and pressed back against her. One elegant, long-fingered hand covered Fareeha's on her stomach, urging it lower. She nipped Angela's earlobe, inching her hand down. Angela's free hand reached up into grip her dark hear, causing the gold beads to clink together quietly. She licked the shell of her ear as her fingers brushed through the curls between Angela's legs. "Do you remember the night you teased me?" she asked her voice a husky whisper. Angela's response was a low moan as Fareeha's fingers ghosted over her clit.

Fareeha moved her hand to tease along the skin of Angela's inner thigh. "Oh, liebling, please," whimpered Angela. The Egyptian tightened her hand on her throat incrementally, her hand staying where it was on Angela's thigh.

"I'll give you what you need, ya amar," she growled. "But you need to answer me. Do you remember?"

"Yes."

"Good. Tonight I will make love to you. But tomorrow... tomorrow I get my revenge." Angela shivered at the thought, her mind awhirl at the possibilities. Which immediately fled the instant Fareeha's hand returned to her clit. The hand around her throat tightened again, briefly. Not enough to cut off her air, just letting her know it was there. Fareeha trapped Angela's clit between her middle and ring fingers, making slow circles around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Occasionally, her fingers would slip down, testing how wet Angela was. Hot water continued to rain down around them as she bent her neck to lay a hot, open-mouthed kiss at the nape of Angela's neck. The doctor tilted her head forward slightly to give her better access. She was rewarded with Fareeha scraping her teeth lightly over the same patch of skin.

"More. Please," begged Angela. Her voice was soft, imploring, tinged with desperation. Fareeha chuckled softly as she continued her slow, teasing exploration. She drew wetness up to glide over the stiff bud. Her touch grew more firm, flicking up over her clit before plunging back down. Fareeha straightened back up, using the strength of her hand to force Angela's head back to her shoulder, drawing out a soft moan. She smiled, pleased, when Angela's hips thrust forward involuntarily, seeking more contact, more friction.

"I want to see you play with your tits, Angela." Almost immediately, Angela's hand untangled from her hand. She slid it down the side of her face, brushing over the hand around her throat, to cup a breast. Simultaneously, her other hand left Fareeha's between her legs, coming up to cup her other breast. Angela squeezed gently, massaging her breasts. As Fareeha continued to tease her poor clit, Angela pinched her nipples, tugging and rolling them between her fingers. A soft gasp flew from her lips when the Egyptian pressed firmly against her entrance. "I am going to push inside now, ok? Let me know if the breath play is too much. I don't want to hurt you," Fareeha warned her.

"Of course," breathed Angela. Then a soft, "yes..." as two fingers finally sank inside. They remained still for a moment, letting Angela get used to the sensation and stretch. Soon, however, Fareeha began thrusting her fingers slowly, in and out in a steady rhythm. Pleasure spread from her pussy, sparking along her veins. The hand around Angela's throat tightened, just barely cutting off her air. Angela's mouth opened in a silent cry as Fareeha's thumb brushed over her clit, fingers moving faster inside her. With what remained of her ability to think, she flicked her fingers over her nipples. Before she could get desperate for breath, Fareeha's grip loosened and she took a gasping breath.

As Fareeha fucked her, she continued to periodically cut off Angela's breath, amplifying the pleasure racing through her body. It set the blood pounding in her ears, giving an edge of desperation to her growing climax. As if sensing how close she was, Fareeha tightened her hand one last time, driving her fingers inside, hard and fast and insistent. Her thumb flicked over Angela's clit once, twice, three times. And Angela was there, coming with a strangled cry, vision going white, body tensing. Fareeha immediately removed her hand from Angela's throat, wrapping her arm around the smaller woman's shoulders. She continued to stroke her clit, drawing out the orgasm and anchoring Angela as she came down from heaven.

Angela came back to herself slowly, smiling. She gently drew Fareeha's hand from her pussy, turning around in her arms. Their lips met in a soft, loving kiss. As they broke apart, Angela said, "Thank you. That was wonderful. I didn't realize how much I needed that."

"It was my pleasure."

"Mm... No, but it will be," Angela purred, starting to pull away. Fareeha chuckled and tightened her arms.

"Tomorrow, I promise, will be for both of us. Let's just clean up and get to bed. You're in for a long day tomorrow." The hot water ran out half way through the rest of their shower. They finished cleaning up with breathless laughs. Fareeha grabbed a fluffy towel and wrapped it around Angela. She toweled and combed her hair, then drew Angela out to the bedroom. They settled into the sheets, spooning comfortably. Fareeha sighed contentedly. She was happy to be home, no matter how brief it might be.

"I wish there was more I could have done," Angela said sleepily.

"Fareeha was silent for a long moment. "Me, too."

**Author's Note:**

> I should mention that, in my head cannon, both Pharah and Mercy are switches. In general, Pharah is more dominant. And, in general, Mercy is more submissive.
> 
> The hardest bit of this to write was the shower scene, so I hope you all like it. And there _will_ be a second chapter, I promise. I'm just not sure how long it will take to compose.


End file.
